


i couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted

by WeekendWriter



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Becket Family Feels, Halloween Prompts, M/M, Yancy kinda lives, ghost au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 01:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeekendWriter/pseuds/WeekendWriter
Summary: It was supposed to be a routine knock. The individual in question was just a follow up, not a real lead. They were supposed to knock on the door, ask a few questions, and then leave.After the first question, they were led in like sheep to slaughter.Yancy, bless his bleeding fucking heart, was running for towels to stop the bleeding when the first shots were fired.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been years in the making but I felt like Halloween season was the perfect time to motivate myself to finally finish it. Fingers crossed I'll have this done by Halloween. In the meantime, enjoy the Ghost AU that nobody asked for.

It was dark. Nobody had been in the house often enough to turn the lights on except for him and at this point, there was really no need, was there? Yancy clenched his hands. He knew that people were back, could tell by the sounds echoing through the foyer of the now-decrepit house. It was always the same with these people, day after day; each one just assuming and carefree until they learned of the true horror that lay within. 

Yancy stalked from the kitchen to the living room. By now, the kids were making their way through the interior of the house. The floorboards squeaked under brand-name sneakers save for the occasional miss-step to avoid the holes. Yancy ached to fix those holes and every step was simply another reminder that he couldn’t. A snicker here and a joke there, and kids moved toward the center of the first floor. Yancy remained out of sight. The kids remained unassuming. 

Wouldn’t be long now. 

The creak in the floorboard leading to the kitchen gave away their location. They had likely turned to flipping through the cabinets and checking the contents of the fridge for cheap beer or whatever else they could get their hands on. Far away from prying parental eyes, the abandoned house across town was the perfect place for a party. Yancy could practically feel the disappointment from the other room when their exhaustive search turned up naught.

The two bickered. It was the same as always; one kid wanted to be there, one kid didn’t. One was foolhardy enough to come to the old haunted house of the town, one was smart enough to steer clear of it. Even if neither of them realized why that one was smart just yet, well – 

He’d let them know. He always did. 

The groan of the railing was the tell-tale sign. It always was. 

One of the kids paused at the foot of the stairs. Only half of the house was safe; the upper portions were always an unexplored wonderland of possible goodies or, at the very least, entertainment. The other lingered further behind. The rest of the house was easy, sure, but an unknown location they couldn’t see from afar? Far more dangerous. Who knew who – or what – could be lurking upstairs?

If only they knew. 

Yancy leaped through the first kid and settled on the first step. As fun as this was, it was important to make sure they never reached the second level of the house. Anything he had left worth protecting was past that point (anything he could reach, anyway) and he’d sooner die than let trespassers such as this get to it. 

Well. Die again, anyway.

The kid turned uncertainly at Yancy’s touch. “Dude…”

The other kid whipped around. “What?”

Yancy grinned and leaned in to the ear of the first. “Boo.”

The kid flailed wildly. The other, unaware of what was wrong, turned suddenly as Yancy crossed the room and knocked over the strategically-placed glass. The shattering was rivaled only by the second kid’s shattered resolve; predictably, he turned and fled out the open front door with a grin. Seriously, who raised these kids, wolves? The first kid glanced firmly his way until Yancy tickled at his legs. 

Yet another pair of runners. Yancy chuckled as he high-tailed out after his friend. 

Really, this was just too easy.


	2. Chapter 2

Raleigh paused in the doorway. It’d been a full month since the incident, and yet something about entering the building still spooked him. But a cop never let anything get to him, as he’d been told time and time again, so he sighed and pushed through the foyer.

A cacophony of cheers greeted him. He hoped his grimace could be passed off as a grin. It hadn't been bad enough that it was his first day back; no, the rest of his coworkers wanted to make a big deal about it as though he wasn’t doing his best to forget. 

The sight of suspenders and spectacularly slicked-back hair was a welcome one, though. Tendo gripped his shoulder. “Good to see you back, brother.”

Raleigh forced a real grin this time. “Glad to be back, my man.” _Will I ever really be?_

Coworkers weaved around them. Raleigh grabbed a nearby cup and took a sip, wishing it was something harder than soda. “Was this really necessary?”

Tendo made a face. “Of course. These fuckers, they can never let anything go. I mean, what kind of world would we live in if something as inappropriate as a ‘welcome back since you didn’t get shot’ party could be avoided?”

Raleigh choked on his drink. Several people glanced his way in concern but feigned interest when Tendo thumped his back enthusiastically. Yeah, the department could be shitty, but at least he had his best friend around. 

_Your brother’s best friend_, a snide voice reminded him.

And just like that, Raleigh was pulled back to that day.

_”Raleigh, listen to me!”_

_The house was dingy and dark, nothing out of the ordinary for this area of town. Raleigh exchanged a glance with Yancy, who gave the signal to hold back. It was supposed to be a routine knock. The individual in question was just a follow up, not a real lead. They were supposed to knock on the door, ask a few questions, and then leave. _

_After the first question, they were led in like sheep to slaughter. _

_The perp of the investigation was a rat in the walls; that much was clear as the laughing lead ignored their questions, slit her own wrists, and laughed in their faces. Yancy, bless his bleeding fucking heart, was running for towels to stop the bleeding when the first shots were fired_.

“Raleigh!” 

Stacker Pentecost’s booming voice echoed over the crowd. Raleigh jerked from his reverie and glanced toward the impressive man. Pentecost was easily one of the most remarkable police chiefs Raleigh had ever met, and easily the most intimidating man he’d ever seen. It was Pentecost that had kept both him and Yancy in line during their training days, and that pulled them right from the academy for more higher-paying jobs than they deserved. 

So, despite the twinge of pain he felt in his chest, Raleigh faced Pentecost openly. “Chief.”

“Enough of that today, boy.” Pentecost shook his hand vigorously. “Good to see you back here. We really missed you here in terms of paperwork. Fixed points always need their most trusted employees, after all.”

Another forced grin. “Of course, sir.”

“Just have your backlogged reports on my desk by the end of the week.”

Reports. Raleigh froze. The last report he’d written, he’d done so with his brother’s blood still on his hands. 

_Raleigh, listen to me!_.

“Are you alright, brother?”

Raleigh flinched when Tendo’s hand landed on his shoulder. “I… yeah, Tendo. Of course, I’m fine.”

Those sharp eyes traveled over him suspiciously. “Uh huh, and I’m honest-to-God Elvis. Just… promise me that if you need anything, you’ll ask, right?”

“Right.” Raleigh smiled, more honestly than he had done so in days. 

The reports didn’t get finished as promised. Raleigh felt shame and guilt burning in the pit of his stomach even as Pentecost waved him home easily that Friday. _Can’t imagine you’re having an easy time of things, these things happen, they’re not the most pressing reports so a little time won’t hurt, take all the time you need_; the excuses fly from his bosses’ mouth, to his great surprise, but it doesn’t ease the hurt in his chest or the pain in his head.

He stepped outside and paused on the steps leading to the building. The apartment is far from his mind, other than the way it feels like an empty reminder of his brother. It doesn’t feel like home anymore; then again, nothing does. Maybe it’s time for a change of scenery.

_Or maybe, a blast from the past_, Yancy’s voice supplies in his head.__

_ _It wasn't like he had thought about the old house. Now that Yancy was gone, it’d probably be smart to transfer the title to his name._ _

_ _Or just demolish the whole thing._ _

_ _There should be red flags from hearing his brother’s voice so clearly in his mind, but Raleigh just chalked it up to grief. He still remembered hearing his mother’s voice in the recesses of his mind weeks after her death until one day, he stopped noticing. Except this was more painful; cancer had taken his mother. His own mistake had taken his brother._ _

_ _Without really deciding to, his feet navigated him to his car and he swerved through the back roads to the farthest corner of the city. The paper birch trees littering the sides of the road eased the pressure in his chest the further he headed away from civilization. It was quiet out here, and that too eased the thrum of the headache he’d been sporting for days._ _

_ _The house loomed at the top of a small hill, surrounded by trees. It wasn't not quite a forest, but the cover of the trees always made for challenging games of hide-and-seek in the spring months. The branches had thickened over the years of practice from holding snow. They were certainly stronger than the building he saw as he stepped from the car; the house had clearly suffered from years of neglect. Raleigh hadn’t thought they let it get this bad, but the evidence was right in front of him. The roof could stand to be redone and the peeling paint was no longer its once-blue color. There was rot in the wood of the stairs leading up to the equally-damaged porch that looked about as bad as Raleigh felt._ _

_ _Rotting from the inside out. Just like him._ _

_ _The creak of the steps as he climbed to the porch were an echo from the past; number two, three, and five, just the same as always. He remembered having to avoid those when he snuck back in at night. And he also remembered having to defend himself - not to not his mother, but to _Yancy_, who always waited up for him._ _

_ _Yancy had always taken care of him. How he’d failed so badly at returning the favor, Raleigh still didn’t know._ _

_ _The front door being unlocked was no surprise; Raleigh wasn't even sure where his key for the place was anymore. He sucked in a quick breath and crossed the threshold._ _

_ _The foyer was a mess, which was no surprise. There was trash littering the floor, likely from visitors over the years. He wasn't dumb; Raleigh had heard the rumors of the town’s only haunted house and knew that his was the only house it could be. He’d just expected they’d take better care of it, he supposed. Not that he’s treated it any better. The furniture and photos of importance had been removed the day their father left; Raleigh remembered that day all too well. He’d come home to an empty house to find Yancy in the backyard, holding a crumpled, half-assed goodbye letter from their father. They’d packed up everything of their mothers and signed the lease to their new apartment that very same day._ _

_ _That letter had been little closure for them, and visiting the house now felt the same way._ _

_ _Scratching, likely from mice in the walls (or, God forbid, big-ass cockroaches), filled the living room. The decrepit couch had seen far better days, and Raleigh didn’t want to imagine what visitors or squatters had done on it over the years._ _

_ _Abruptly, the scratching stopped. Raleigh glanced into the kitchen and found nothing of interest, as he expected. The first step of the stairwell squeaked under his bulk. He paused. Could he really face the upper floor? Most of their childhood items had been left behind up there, and would still be there if the visitors had left them. If hearing Yancy in his brain caused this much pain, what would the memories triggered by Yancy’s old things do?_ _

_ _He didn’t have to think about it. The second his head turned, Raleigh let out what could only be called a scream as he fell backward onto the step._ _

_ _“Hey kiddo.”_ _


End file.
